Mary's Christmas Surprise (Christmas Holiday Extravaganza)

by Carol James

  “I’m staying here for Christmas,” Jake replied coolly. “I’ve had a change of plans.”

  “Well, that seems to be the order of the season around here,” his mother shot back.

  The ensuing silence weighed on Mary like a winter fog, heavy and cold. Then she got it. Jake had planned to spend Christmas at home, but he was staying here because of her.

  “Why don’t you all come spend Christmas here? There’s plenty of room. Alicia can come, too.” The words escaped her mouth before she had time to consider their consequence.

  Jake’s mother set her cup on the coffee table and slowly stood. “We need to go.”

  As she walked into the foyer, Jake’s father stood. His voice was hushed. “I’m sorry. We just returned from seeing Chris, and that’s always hard on her. She didn’t mean all that stuff.” He gave Jake a hug. “Love you, son.”

  “Love you, too, Dad.”

  Then he grasped Mary’s hand. “Thanks for the invitation. We’ll give it some thought and let you know.” He turned sharply and walked into the foyer.

  The door closed behind them.

  “Sorry.” Jake’s voice was quiet, solemn.

  “I think I’m the one who needs to apologize. I’ve obviously upset your Christmas plans.”

  He dropped down onto the couch. “It’s not you. It’s her. From the time we were born, she had our lives planned. Chris would be the athlete, and I would follow my dad into architecture. When everything blew up and nothing turned out as she wanted, she began grasping for anything she could control. Or thought she could. But there’s one major flaw in her reasoning. She was never in control. Never. God had other plans for me.”

  Mary sat beside him. The beard made his face that of a grown man, but his eyes… Soft and vulnerable, his eyes were those of a young boy.

  “She’s unhappy and bitter, and she strikes out at anything or anyone she sees as a threat to the tiny shred of her world she has left.” He placed his hand on her arm. “I’m sorry. You caught the brunt of years of frustration and unhappiness.”

  She briefly covered his hand with hers and then stood. Now it was her turn to comfort him. Knowing he had a girlfriend freed her. Now she could do what she’d wanted to do the other day, and she didn’t have to worry about his misinterpreting her intent. Cradling his face in her hands, she leaned forward and placed a kiss of friendship on his forehead. “No apology is necessary.”

  ~*~

  The second he and Mary entered the sanctuary, Diane flagged him down. “I need to talk with you before the meeting starts.” Her usual smile was missing.

  “I’ll go get us some seats,” Mary offered.

  “Thanks.” There must be some problem with one of the buildings. But they still had several days before the nativity, so he could take care of whatever needed to be fixed. “Shoot.”

  “First Mary breaks a leg, and then Joseph’s family suddenly decides to go out of town for Christmas. We got a new Mary, but now she has no husband.”

  He hadn’t been here long enough to know many people, but maybe. “Sam or Ken might do it.”

  “They’re playing the Roman soldiers. Typecasting.” She smiled as she placed a hand on his forearm. “I have another person in mind. You.”

  “Me?” But he already had a part. “What about the shepherds? I’ve been growing a beard for weeks now.”

  “It’s much easier to find someone to play a shepherd. In fact, I already have a volunteer.” She smiled up at him. “And besides, your beard-growing will not be in vain. I’m pretty sure Joseph had one, too. Please say you’ll do it.”

  The part of the shepherd would have been a snap. Walk in and kneel. The sheep even came with their own handlers. Joseph? Now that was a little more difficult. More time in the spotlight. More acting involved. He was fine serving in the background, building things. But not being on stage in front of an audience.

  Even though it was a live nativity, it was still a play. And for it to be meaningful, it needed to be done well. It wasn’t just some Christmas program in a high school gym. It was a representation of life-changing truth. That’s why he’d worked so hard to make the buildings look realistic, authentic. “Diane, I’m a behind-the-scenes guy. Not an actor. A shepherd was one thing. But Joseph?”

  “You don’t have to answer now. Promise me you’ll pray about it.”

  That he could do. “OK.” Maybe he’d come up with some excuses she couldn’t shoot down.

  While Diane made her way up to the platform, he slid into the chair next to Mary.

  She leaned in close and whispered, “Everything OK?”

  “I’m sure it will be,” he whispered back. “Joseph had to drop out of the nativity.”

  “You mean, I’m husbandless?”

  “No, not you. Mary is. Well...yeah, I guess you are.”

  “Surely, she’ll find a replacement. We can’t have a nativity without him.”

  No, they couldn’t. But this was a big church, and there were lots of people to choose from besides him. “She asked me to do it.”

  “I see. And what did you say?” Her face was unreadable.

  “I told her I’d pray about it.”

  She reached over and placed her hand on his. “You do that. You’d be perfect.”

  As her touch lingered, everything else faded into the background. She had kissed him this afternoon. It was a less than romantic kiss—the only other person he could remember kissing him on his forehead was Dad when he was a kid. But it was still a kiss.

  He didn’t want to play Joseph, but if he decided to, he needed to be sure it was for the right reason.

  9

  Jake applied another coat of shellac on the burl table. The finish brought the grain to life, enriching the colors and enhancing the variations in the pattern. Once it dried, he’d sand it again, and then—if it was smooth enough—he’d finish with a coat of lacquer. And if it wasn’t, he’d sand it and shellac it and sand it again until it was. The table just needed to be done by Christmas Eve.

  Even though the design hadn’t turned out as he’d planned, it was still a pretty piece. When he dropped off the Shaker table, he’d show the burl one to Cheryl and see if she wanted something similar for the gallery.

  Today was the first rehearsal for the nativity. He’d prayed about playing Joseph, just as he’d promised Diane he would, but nothing in him wanted to do it. He was an architect by training and a carpenter by choice. Generally, both jobs were singular, isolated. Very little of the time did he need to be “on,” or working with or being up in front of people. A perfect situation for an introvert.

  Mary’s job was different. A teacher was always “on.” In fact, teaching was not that different from acting. Teachers spent most of their days up on an invisible stage in front of a captive audience. They might be third graders, but they were still an audience.

  He’d always been the shy one, living in the shadow of his charismatic, outgoing brother. Nothing in his life had prepared him for being up in front of hundreds of people. It wasn’t as though this was Broadway or Hollywood. But it also wasn’t what he’d agreed to when he’d told Diane he’d help with the nativity. Being a shepherd was a big enough stretch. But Joseph...

  Realization exploded inside him. On a much more earth-shattering scale, Joseph must have experienced some of these same emotions. Fear, reluctance, feeling somewhat unprepared or taken advantage of. He’d been asked to do something he hadn’t bargained for. But out of obedience and love, he’d responded.

  Jake was in no way the man Joseph had been, nor would he ever be. Yet, he was being asked to do something outside his comfort zone, something that had not been a part of the original plan, that he would not choose on his own. And in obedience and love, he would also respond.

  ~*~

  Mary glanced at her phone. Costume fittings had begun fifteen minutes ago, and Jake wasn’t here. She hadn’t seen him all day, and even though he’d given her his number the other night, she hated to call him. He was a gr
own man, and the last thing he needed was her checking up on him.

  Diane appeared. “Still no word from Jake?” If her face was any sign, her earlier optimism was just about gone.

  Mary shook her head.

  “It’s not like him to be late. I hope he’s OK.”

  Images of Jake lying in a ditch somewhere pushed into Mary’s mind. “I’ll call him—only to make sure.”

  “No, I will. I imagine I was the one who scared him off.” Diane pulled her phone out of her pocket and found his number. “This may be his not so subtle way of letting us know his answer about playing Joseph.”

  Mary reflexively turned toward an electronic beep sounding at the back of the gym.

  Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Jake stepped through the door. He looked at the display as he headed their direction. “Sorry I’m late, Diane. I was working on a project, and time got away.”

  A strange combination of excitement and relief filled Mary. “We’re just glad you’re here.”

  “Yes, we are,” Diane agreed. “We’re working on getting costumes together in case any alterations need to be made.” She paused. “Jake, have you—”

  “I’ll do it. I’m not saying I’ll be any good at it, but I’ll try.”

  “That’s all we ask.” Diane put her arm around him as she smiled. “You and Mary will be perfect. They’ll be calling you for costumes soon, and then we’ll talk through the production.”

  As Diane left, they sat on a couple of chairs to wait for their names to be called.

  “Shepherds.” Diane’s voice sounded above the buzz of the cast.

  “Is everything OK? We were getting a little concerned.” She wanted to ask where he’d been this morning, but it really was none of her business. He didn’t owe her any explanations.

  “I should have called. I had an appointment in Waco that ran longer than I thought it would.” His knee bounced up and down. He was nervous.

  She reached over and steadied his leg with her hand. “I’m so glad you’re doing this with me. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have be my husband.”

  His knee stilled as he stared at her in silence, eyebrows raised.

  “I mean ‘play’ my husband, not ‘be’ my husband. Well, not even my husband, Mary’s husband.” Clamminess covered her palms.

  “Glad you cleared that up. For a second there, I thought you were proposing.” The amber flecks in his eyes sparkled.

  “Mary and Joseph.” Diane’s voice broke the tension as she called them for their costume fittings.

  ~*~

  Mary’s costume fit perfectly, but not Jake’s. The striped tunic was fine, but the robe was almost a foot too short. The costume had obviously been used before for shorter and taller men, because all the material to lengthen it was still there, pressed into a neat hem that could be let out. She ripped out the hem so she could set it at the right length.

  Jake stepped into the kitchen. He had on the same plaid flannel shirt he’d worn at church, but his shorts and flip-flops were out of place in the December cold. “Like my outfit?” He winked.

  “I doubt you’ll start a new fashion trend.”

  He pulled the robe on over his head and then climbed up on top of the kitchen stool. “Will this work?”

  “Perfect.” She grabbed Mom’s pin cushion and a ruler and began turning up the hem. “I’ve put a few pins around the bottom, and I’ll straighten out the edge after you take it off.”

  He pulled it back off and jumped down from the stool.

  “Give me about five minutes. Once it’s sewn, you can put the whole thing on, and we’ll see if any other alterations need to be made.”

  He followed her into the laundry room.

  She laid the robe on Mom’s folding table and evened the hem. Then she sat down at the sewing machine. She’d use a long basting stitch that could be easily removed if next year’s Joseph was shorter than Jake. Which would most likely be the case. “So how tall are you anyway, Jake?”

  “Six two.”

  That explained the barely two inches of fabric left for a decent doubled-over seam.

  “Hey, before you start, I need to ask you something.”

  She turned and looked up at him.

  “Does your mom know you’re using her sewing machine?”

  “What?”

  “Do you have her permission? I hear she doesn’t let just anyone use it. She’s pretty picky. I mean, if she comes home and finds out you’ve been messing with it, who knows what she might do.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as a smile crept across his face.

  Had she really said all that to him the first time she’d seen him using Dad’s tools? She grinned back. “Please don’t tell her.”

  “I can’t make any promises. Who knows? I might need some blackmail material.”

  She ran the robe through the machine, removed the pins, and handed it back to him.

  “Did you get all the pins out?”

  “I may have left one or two...on purpose. Now, put the whole thing on and go look in the mirror in the foyer and see if any other alterations need to be made.”

  She followed him as he pulled the robe over his head. This time it was the perfect length. He put the striped tunic over it. The beard, the dark hair. The transformation was amazing. “Let me get your headdress.”

  “Wait.” He reached out and gently grasped her wrist. “Put your costume on, too.”

  “Jake...”

  “Just humor me. Please.”

  He was doing a favor for her, the least she could do was grant this request. “OK.”

  She grabbed her costume off the living room couch and pulled the light blue robe over her head. Then she picked up both headdresses and his rope belt and carried them out into the foyer. “Here.”

  As she wrapped the white gossamer fabric around her head, he tied his belt around this waist and then began to struggle with his headdress.

  “Let me help you.” Facing him, she took the striped fabric that matched his tunic, reached up, and placed it on his head. After she took the band and tied it around his head to hold the fabric in place, she adjusted the headdress until it looked authentic. Memories of Mom adjusting Dad’s tie before they’d go to a formal business dinner flashed into her mind. There had always been something special about those moments when she’d been a child, seeing the expressions on their faces, even though she couldn’t truly understand them. But now that she was an adult, she knew what it was. Intimacy. A special time between two people who loved each other very much.

  She dropped her gaze down to meet Jake’s, and though they hardly knew each other, she saw it. And she felt its reflection deep within her. A seed of intimacy.

  “Thanks.” He drew her back to reality.

  As he turned toward the mirror, she followed suit. “Wow.”

  “Amazing. We look like a Christmas card. Let’s get a picture.” He lifted up his robe and pulled his phone out of his shorts pocket.

  She giggled. Something seemed totally inappropriate about a digital image of Mary and Joseph.

  “What?”

  “It just seems wrong, that’s all.”

  “I figure if you can use a sewing machine to hem Joseph’s robe, I can use a phone to take our picture.”

  She couldn’t argue with that. “So, take your picture.”

  They both backed up until they were framed in the mirror. He held the phone so that it was partially camouflaged by a fold in his tunic and took a couple of pictures.

  “Now, don’t move.” He turned to face her and slowly closed the space between them. His words were barely above a whisper. “In the spirit of Christmas traditions.” As he cupped her face with his hands, his eyes looked deeply into hers. He leaned forward and gently brushed a kiss against her lips.

  “Jake—”

  He pointed upward, rested his forehead on hers, and whispered, “Mistletoe.” Then he drew back.

  Her heart was racing. She hadn’t known him long enough to figure out
if he was teasing or serious. His words were light, but his eyes and his body language said something different...And what about, “Alicia.”

  “What?”

  “Alicia, what about Alicia? Your mom mentioned her the other day.”

  “Alicia was always my mom’s choice not mine. Although I did try. Anything to make my mom happy. But I was never enough for Alicia. Not rich enough, not high class enough. No matter how hard I tried, I failed. And that’s when I realized, my worth isn’t found in what people think of me, in what I do, or what I have, but in who God says I am. I want to marry someone who understands that and loves me for me, not for what my job is, who my friends and family are, or how much money I make. And Alicia’s not that person.” His eyes told her he was telling the truth.

  Her pulse quickened. His words resounded deep in her heart. Yes, it was her heavenly Father, not Drew, not the school, Who determined her worth. “You know, that was the first time I’ve been kissed by a man with a beard.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. My friend Ashley says kissing a man without a beard or mustache is like eating a cupcake without icing.”

  He grinned. “She does, does she? And what do you say?”

  “I say that wasn’t enough of a kiss to tell for sure.” She placed her hands on his cheeks and whispered, “Once again, ‘in the spirit of Christmas traditions.’” She drew his face to hers until their lips met. Encircling her with his arms, he gathered her close as fire surged through every inch of her body. Despite what she’d just said, this kiss had absolutely nothing to do with mistletoe.

  He, not she, was the first to draw away. “Well?”

  Hardly able to breathe, she whispered her reply. “I’ll have to think about it. And maybe test the theory again at a later time.”

  “Any time.” He chuckled as he drew her near again. “Tell you a secret?”

  She nodded.

  “That’s the first time I’ve ever kissed a woman when I had a beard.”

  “And?”

  “I think I might need to test it some more, too.”